


the cold was hiding in the joints of his fingers

by Addie_D_123



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Disordered Eating, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Thanksgiving, Young!Sam, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:35:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2643518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Addie_D_123/pseuds/Addie_D_123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sammy won't eat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the cold was hiding in the joints of his fingers

Sammy won’t eat.

Dean has even made his favorite thing: mashed potatoes with lots of goopy brown gravy. Making anything in their tiny kitchenette is hard enough so it had to be instant potatoes and gravy from a jar. But it’s been almost two whole days and Dean is starting to panic.

Because Sammy still won’t eat.

“Come on, Sam, just a little. For me?”

Lips pressed in a tight white line. He shakes his head furiously, shaggy waves brushing over wide eyes.

“Hey, do you want me to do the plane thing?" Dean swoops the spoon through the air. Daredevil dives and loop-the-loops. Presses it to Sam’s lips and shoves down the desire to pry them open. Sam glares.

“What is it, Sam?”

He already knows, because Sam told him last night. Tucked close together under the blankets collected from both motel beds, they shivered and told secrets. Dean just couldn't get warm lately, like the cold was hiding in the joints of his fingers. His elbows and his knees. And Sam was half asleep and mumbling.

“I’m scared. It hurts like there’s acid burning out my insides. There’s no room for food.”

Dean reached over and slid a hand under his shirt like he could rub the pain away. His cold hand pressed over Sam’s warm stomach. Sam shivered when he felt the chill and Dean flinched when he felt ribs.

“Whatcha scared about, Sammy?”

“What if Dad doesn’t come back?”

Dean wanted to scream but he just rolled over and pulled Sam closer to him. Cradled him against his chest and felt the warm wet on their shared pillow. Sam was just a kid. His kid brother with a giant brain full of dark thoughts. Five years old and carrying too much on his narrow shoulders. Dean only wished he could carry it for him.

“Dad will come back, he always does. You know that.”

But there was no reply. And after a moment Sam’s soft snores gave him away. Dean didn’t ask him about it in the morning.

Dean takes a spoonful of the cold congealed gravy and licks at it. “You know what today is _about_ , Sammy?”

He shakes his head again. His eyes shoot up like a challenge. Defiance sharpens his gaze.

“It’s about being thankful.” Dean takes another large spoonful and shoves it in his mouth. It tastes like nothing. “You know what I’m thankful for?”

Sam chews on the skin around his fingernails and sucks his fingers hungrily. Cannibalizes himself. It’s just about the only thing he eats anymore.

“You, Sam.”

Sam’s lips twitch around his fingers and Dean reaches forward to gently pull them from his mouth. Holds the tiny hand in his and stares down at one bloody ragged nail.

“And I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?”

Sam looks down.

“Because you’ll always have me, Sam. No matter what.”

They look up and meet each other’s eyes. Sam’s are full of unshed tears and when he nods one breaks free to roll down his cheek.

“Good. Now eat, Stubborn Sammy.”

He scowls. “That’s not my name!”

Sam takes his hand back, grabs for the spoon and takes a huge mouthful of potatoes. Chews slowly and closes his eyes before he swallows. Dean hides his grin by scooping a finger into the bowl and licking it off. “It is now, kiddo.” 

Sam responds by opening up his mouth to give him a full view of his half chewed dinner.

"Dude, you are so gross.”

Dean is rewarded with a full on grin. He rolls his shoulders and takes his first deep breath in days. Sam speaks again after he’s finished half the bowl.

“You, too, De. I mean, you’ll always have me, too.”

Dean takes another bite of cold lumpy potatoes and thinks they suddenly don’t taste that bad.

"Always.” Dean agrees and when his eyes start to burn he wipes at them with the back of his hand. Stands up quickly and crosses the room to the mini-fridge, yelling over his shoulder. "Better save room for pie, Sam.”

“You got pie?”

“Dude, of course I got pie.”

And there was that grin again. Like someone turned on the light and took the chill out of his bones.

“Happy Turkey Day, Sammy.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> To all of you celebrating the holiday, have a good one. Spend time with your family, make memories and eat lots of food.  
> xx


End file.
